


always yours

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Depression, M/M, Mental Illness, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, dallon just wants his bf to be happy, mentally ill brendon, please don't read if you are triggered by any of the things above, this fic is rly sad i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:14:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>brendon is a bit of a lost cause but for some damn reason dallon can't seem to leave this broken boy alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always yours

**Author's Note:**

> okay so hi i'm al and this fic is kind of a little personal thing between me and my friend but i thought hey this is half decent why not try to make people suffer so here we are enjoy and please read the tags

     
    Dallon has known Brendon for quite some time. He remembers when they first met so vividly- he often finds himself recalling the moment. It feels selfish to say this, but he really misses that Brendon- the boy with wide, wonder filled eyes and a smile that could light up a room. The boy that Dallon fell in love with so long ago.

  
    A lots changed since then. Brendon- well- he's- Brendon is different now. He has a collection of empty pill bottles growing on his nightstand and its gotten to the point where if he doesn't respond within a certain amount of time Dallon worries for him. It seems like  the bags under Brendon's eyes grow darker every time Dallon sees him. He says he doesn't sleep well anymore- says he can only get to bed easy when he can hear the soft lull of Dallon's breathing beside him. Dallon really wishes he could be there for Brendon all the time, protecting him and keeping all the bad thoughts at bay.

  
    But he can't be.

  
    And it kills him.

  
    He'd do anything for Brendon to be okay again.

  
..

  
    It's 3:04 AM the first time Brendon tells Dallon he wants to die. They're sitting on the floor of Dallon's bedroom, backs against the wall and Nirvana playing through this shitty old CD player. Their fingers are intertwined loosely and Brendon has his head resting on Dallon's shoulder gently. He tells him how he wants to leave so so badly- anything to end whatever the fuck is going on in his head. Tells him how he lives every minute in constant fear and how every breath feels more and more forced with each passing day. Tells him how no matter how much hope people tell him there is to be had he's never able to see the end of this.

  
    Dallon's quiet for a moment- both of them are. Brendon chews on his lower lip and squeezes the older's hand a little tighter, almost regretting saying anything at all. Almost.

  
    They sit there in the silence for a few minutes before Dallon shifts himself to pull Brendon into a tight embrace. He buries his head into the junction where Brendon's neck meets shoulder and plants a soft kiss to the skin. Nothing is said. Nothing needs to be.

  
    Dallon hears a quiet sniffle come from Brendon- it's a small sound that he knows all too well. He feels Brendon's body heave against his own and then there's a wetness on his shirt that he can only assume to be tears. Pulling Brendon closer, he nuzzles his face into the boy's hair and kisses his scalp.

  
    Brendon's sobbing now and all Dallon is able to do is smooth his hand up and down his bony spine and offer quiet words of praise to him. Maybe, just maybe, if Dallon lets him know just how much he loves him he'll somehow learn to love himself.

  
    Neither of them really know how long they sat there, limbs tangled as Brendon stained the fabric of Dallon's loose tank top with tears. Eventually Brendon straightens himself out and wipes his face on the side of his hands, looking over at Dallon with puffy bloodshot eyes. Dallon leans over and kisses the last of the tears away before pulling back and cupping Brendon's cheek softly.

  
    Brendon places his hand over Dallon's and lets the smallest of smiles cross his face.

  
     He promises he'll never actually be brave enough to try anything- says he'd never be able to leave Dallon behind. His voice is small and broken and shaking.

  
    Dallon doesn't believe a word of it.

  
..

  
    Not a day goes by where Dallon doesn't worry about Brendon. His mind is constantly playing the same scenario on repeat- the one where he wakes up to an empty bed and a crumpled note on the night stand. He imagines trying to go about his day as he normally would but even the thought seems so empty without the presence of Brendon. No matter how many times he reassures him that he won't kill himself- _he won't he won't he won't_ \- Dallon cant stop fearing that some day he will. That he'll deem this world pointless and decide its better off without him in it. I mean, he almost swallowed a handful of pills a little less than a month ago. Who's to say he won't try it again?

  
    He just wants Brendon to be happy again. To Dallon- Brendon is perfection. Brendon is the sun, the moon, and all of his stars. The first flower to bloom after the worst of storms. The very air he breathes.

  
    Brendon is so _beautiful_ in Dallon's eyes.

  
    This boy deserves the world. Deserves to wake up every morning with a smile on his face and light in his eyes and not a care in the world.

  
    He often blames God for all of this- screams his fears and anger into broken prayers beside his bed before he goes to sleep.

  
    He's never really believed in God or anything, but it feels kind of nice to blame someone.

  
    Because lately, the only person he's been blaming is himself.

  
..  
    They're half asleep with bodies intertwined, Brendon's face pressed against Dallon's chest and Dallons head softly resting atop Brendon's. The warmth radiating between the two of them is bordering on uncomfortable, and Dallon's 97% sure Brendon is getting drool on his shirt, but both of them are too tired to really notice or care. The younger moves his head to look up at the other with half lidded eyes and a sleepy grin. Dallon smiles right back and places a quick kiss on Brendon's lips before burying his head back into the mess of black hair.

  
    "Thanks." he hears Brendon murmurs quietly.

  
    "...for what?" He asks, pulling back slightly and looking down at Brendon with a confused look spread across his face.

  
    "Just- for like- I don't know...existing and stuff? Putting up with me I guess? Like, literally, I have no fucking idea why you've stuck around for so long, dude.." Brendon pulls away as well to look right back up at the other. Dallon just shakes his head gently and lets out a small chuckle.

  
    "Brendon, I honestly don't think I could ever leave you- even if I wanted to." He was silent for a second, gathering his thoughts, "I don't of course, I love you so, so much. But just- just know I really don't mind being here with you every step of the way, okay? I just- I really want you to be okay again. You don't deserve any of this, I hope you know that." Dallon combed his fingers through Brendon's hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp. Brendon snuggled himself closer to Dallon and exhaled quietly, breath warm against the older's chest.

  
    "I love you." He mumbles.

  
    "I love you too." Dallon says, voice a soft whisper before he plants a kiss to the crown of Brendon's head.

  
    They fall asleep like that, limbs tangled and bodies flush against one another.

  
..

  
    Brendon's mom had called him down- something about him forgetting to do the dishes or something.

  
    So Dallon was left to sit alone on Brendon's bed, staring around at the room that he knew all too well. He sighed, rolling off the bed and standing up to stretch himself out. Well. This was fun.

  
    He was about to go and sit back down again when something caught his eye- a crumpled piece of paper sticking out of the trash can. It wasn't unusual to see ruined paper scattered across Brendon's room- he was a songwriter after all- but something about this particular piece caught his eye. Strolling across the room, he bends down and slowly picks it up.  He hesitates a moment.

  
     He really shouldn't do this.

  
    Fuck it.

  
    Carefully unfolding the paper, he begins to read it. The words are scrawled out messily all across the paper and the handwriting is terrible- almost as if he wrote it with a shaking hand. It's barely legible and he has to squint to read it. His eyes skim across the paper and he can feel the blood pounding in his ears with every word. He feels his throat tighten and he almost doesn't want to continue reading. He has to though, he has to.

  
    Something Dallon recognizes to be blood stains the edges of the paper and he doesn't want to think about how it got there. His heart is beating fast and he feels like he can barely breath.

  
    In his hands he holds Brendon's unused suicide note.

  
    Once he's finished reading, he tightens his grip on it and closes his eyes, hoping that maybe when he opens them it'll be gone. Maybe this is all some sort of sick figment of his imagination. When he opens his eyes it's still there. With a gulp, he crumples it back up and throws it back towards the trash. It doesn't make it in but he doesn't really notice because everything's a little blurry right now and he feels as if he's going to fall down. Making his way back to the bed, he sits down and runs a shaking hand through his hair.

  
    It's okay, Dallon. He didn't actually use it- he didn't he didn't _HE DIDN'T_. Everything's alright Brendon's still here he'll get better he will he will he will he will. He takes a deep breath and places his head in his hands, breathing uneven and heavy as he tries to push the note to the back of his mind.

  
    But he can't. He can't get the image of a shaking Brendon with bleeding wrists bent over a piece of paper scribbling down whatever he can with an unsteady hand. He should've been there. He should've been there to hold Brendon and tell him everything's gonna be alright and even though they both know that's a god damn lie it somehow helps to chase away the pain.

  
    He doesn't hear the open nor does he hear Brendon walk towards him and only when Brendon is shaking him and asking 'are you okay?' does he offer some sort of response.

  
    "Huh? Oh- yeah- I'm fine. It's nothing. Must've fallen asleep or something.." He fakes a smile and Brendon grins right back before offering him a hand.

  
    "C'mon, Mom made cookies." The younger says as he helps Dallon up.

  
    They walk down the stairs and Dallon doesn't say a word.

  
..

  
    It's not the first time Brendon's ended up with his back against the wall and a pair of persistent lips on his. It really isn't. But this time- this time feels different. Dallon feels it too. The air around them seems so much thicker and its as if all their senses are heightened.

  
    Dallon's working on sucking a bruise onto the other's throat when he hears Brendon whisper,

  
    "Want- Want you to fuck me."

  
    He freezes and almost immediately pulls away. Brendon's staring at him with hooded eyes that look like something straight off of PornHub.

  
    "Are you- Are you sure you really want to-!" Dallon is interrupted when the other grinds himself against him. It's rather obvious Brendon has a hard on.

  
    "Does this answer your question?" He flashes Dallon a lopsided grin. Dallon just laughs quietly and pulls away for Brendon, only to grab his arm and lead him to the bed behind them. They fall with a thud against the downy comforter before Dallon's climbing on top of him.

  
    Their lips are locked within seconds, the soft slide of lips against lips causing the both of them to sigh contently. Dallon pulls back for a moment, only to ask where the lube is. Brendon jerks his head to the nightstand and Dallon climbs over him to shuffle through the drawer. He does his best to ignore the various orange bottles scattered across the surface. At last he finds the bottle and is about to close the drawer when he catches a glimpse of something that he can only assume to be a razor. Gulping, he nearly slams it shut and makes his way back to Brendon. He tosses it onto the empty area of bed next to them and is about to lean down to steal another kiss when Brendon puts his hand between them to stop him.

  
    "You're wearing way too many clothes, Dall." Dallon looks down at himself and then back up at Brendon.

  
    "Yeah, okay, I guess you have a point."

  
     So then he's sliding off the bed along with Brendon and slipping out of his skinny jeans. He pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him in just his boxers, and then turns around to look at Brendon.

  
    Brendon too is clad in just a pair of boxers. He's rubbing his arms nervously and offering Dallon the smallest of grins. Dallon's about to ask whats wrong when he faintly sees a collection of puffy red scratch marks making their way up Brendon's arms. I mean, Dallon already kind of knew- no one wears a hoodie in 90 degree California weather without reason- but seeing them is something different entirely. It's so- It's so odd to see Brendon's usually porcelain skin littered with so many marks. They don't make him any less beautiful, though.

  
    He lets out a shaky breath and strolls across the room to where Brendon stood. Gently, he lays the other down onto the bed and crawls on top of him. Not a word is spoken and that's alright- nothing really needs to be said.

  
    Dallon places a kiss on Brendon's cheek. And then his jaw. His neck. His shoulder. His collarbone. His chest. The other is staring down at him with a confused gaze spread across his face but he says nothing,

  
    He makes his way down to Brendon's arm and pauses. Circling his hand around his wrist, he carefully leans down to kiss one of the scars. Brendon's breath catches in his throat.

  
    Dallon then begins to make his way up Brendon's arm, placing his lips upon every single scar so gently. Occasionally he'll stop to whisper something like 'you're beautiful' or 'i love you so much' and Brendon can do nothing but sit there with tears in his eyes as he watches in a sort of wonder. It feels odd to feel loved. It's new- unfamiliar- almost sort of scary.

  
    Once Dallon has kissed each and every mark he moves to the other arm, repeating the actions over and over until he has worshiped every part of Brendon that made him think he was anything short of perfect.

  
    He crawls up Brendon's body then and kisses away the tears that had been trickling down the sides of his face. He doesn't stop crying of course- how could he after that- but Dallon lays himself down beside Brendon and wraps his larger body around the other's frame. They lay like that for a long time- Brendon crying quietly and Dallon peppering the back of his neck with kisses and sweet nothings until they drift off into a lucid sleep.

  
     They're broken.

  
    But maybe they can make it.


End file.
